@narrationstold
  The deepest of frowns hadnât left Kamilâs face since they left the city for a coastal town in Massachusetts. Of all things, the coast in October didnât seem particularly enticing, especially when he could be back at the theatre working on his most recent project --   But it was that mentality that led him here.   Kamilâs inability to let go of his work was a concern amongst the small group of friends. So much so that his bags had been thoroughly checked before even leaving the door to ensure he didnât pack any of his emergency seamstress kits or sketchbooks to work on. What they hadnât confiscated, by his surprise, was a fine bottle of liquor that he often relied on as he went through his âcreativeâ moments. The moments where heâd coop himself up in a small, dark space, as his mind ran wild.   Pushing his fingers through his hair -- flat from the humidity -- Kamil inspected the little manor that theyâd thrown down on. Impressive. Rumors of hauntings was certainly an attraction to this little humble abode, and Kamil wasnât much for such superstitions. âIf they have a bath tub as big as me, Iâll consider this home in no time at all,â Kamil offers lightly, the deep frown finally softening into one of interest.    âSalem certainly does have an appeal to it, doesnât it?â heâs trying to be a bit more optimistic, charmed by the infrastructure. His mind sounds the creative alarms, fingers itching to draw out a whole panel of different costumes to fit this house alone. âI love the witchy vibe,â he laughs, taking the lead towards the manor.



















